


Blood Moon

by evangelinerose



Series: Draco One Shots & Drabbles [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood, F/M, Horror, Violence, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 06:50:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20862017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evangelinerose/pseuds/evangelinerose
Summary: In which Draco goes completely off the rails after Y/N dies and takes a little dive into the dark magic of necromancy….happy spooky month!!!!!





	Blood Moon

Tonight was the night.

He had waited _so_ long for this. So, so long.

Really, he was quite lucky. The wait could have been years. Instead, it had only been eight months, and the potion itself had taken six to brew.

Still, eight months was too long. Far too long without _her_.

Everything went off without a hitch. 

He had planned it meticulously, after all. Obsessively. 

The cauldron was already outside, bubbling wildly, the contents inside churning like thick, black tar. And _she_ was perfectly preserved, having rested in a special tank with a special potion, both of which he had bought for this very purpose. Don’t ask where or how he acquired it. The Malfoys have their ways, after all, and it was so illegal and expensive that it isn’t even close to funny. 

But that didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing had mattered for eight months, since that horrible day at Hogwarts. The Dark Lord had been defeated, but at what cost?

_At what cost?_

Draco Malfoy wasn’t going to accept the cost. He didn’t care what it took.

And so he followed through with his plan. Everything was scheduled to the minute.

At 11:50 PM, he took her out of the tank and levitated her outside.

He was gentle when he floated her down to lie on the frosted ground. She still looked perfect. So beautiful and delicate. She could have been sleeping.

At 11:55, he began murmuring the words.

Other books during his research phase had contained a warning about these words. It had talked about how foul they were, how black, or how spells or potions like this one were too similar in nature to Horcruxes. _You don’t manipulate the natural order of things __without consequences_, the books had said. _This sort of magic is so dark, too dark. It will twist your mind, and it will damage you._

Draco Malfoy didn’t care. He had merely scoffed at how very unhelpful those books had been, tossing them irritably to the side. Luckily he had eventually found a book that instructed him rather than merely cautioned.

Again, don’t ask where.

At 11:58, he unbuttoned his shirt and drew his knife.

The edges were long and jagged and he winced and eventually groaned in pain as it burned through his skin. He sliced the two lines with slow, careful precision across his torso. This part had to be done by hand. The book had been very adamant about that. When he was done, and the redness of his blood was gleaming on the paleness of his skin, glinting in the moonlight, he gasped out the final words at the same time as he tossed the bloody knife into the bubbling cauldron.

“Under the Blood Moon,” he murmured, cringing as he gripped the edges of his cauldron and took one glance up at the sky, at the red moon hanging there in all its glory: the glory of a full lunar eclipse. “I give mine own, and cross myself with the X…the symbol to stay forever burned on my skin….” The cauldron began to bubble even harder, and he suddenly smiled, a manic gleam in his eyes. “…as a reminder that I am now forever marked…”

_Yes_. He was marked. It was _him_ manipulating the natural order. Him, him, him. And he was proud of it. He had never wanted something more.

Eagerly, he dipped his hands into the potion and drank.

He coughed and sputtered, and then his eyes shuttered and became pitch black. 

And he began to laugh at the sudden power he felt coursing through his veins, and the shrill, cold sound of it echoed into the night and across the freezing grounds of the Manor. Staggering over, he placed his hands on _her_ chest.

“Wake, Y/N,” he murmured desperately. “_Wake_.”

She did so immediately, jolting upright with wide eyes and her face set into an expression like she was about to scream; but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. Her eyes were clouded over, hazy, and there was a strange, ashen color to her skin. But Draco pressed his fingers into her neck, and felt a pulse.

She was awake, she was alive.

He began to laugh again. It was a manic, crazed laugh, and fear flickered in her eyes. “What did you do?” she whispered hoarsely, her gaze wandering over her lover from her previous life: his black eyes, the cauldron with the black tar, the X dashed into his chest by his own knife. “Draco, _what did you do_? You’re _cursed_!”

His black eyes flashed and then gleamed brighter. “But I’ll have you,” he said, a demented smile falling over his features as he began to tremble uncontrollably. “_Forever_, Y/N. Now we can be together forever.”


End file.
